


the l word

by everytuesday



Series: i think she likes girls [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: "I'm weird. I'm a weirdo" but it's about being a butch lesbian, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Friendship, Lesbian Jughead, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everytuesday/pseuds/everytuesday
Summary: the one where jughead is a butch lesbian
Relationships: Pre-Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones - Relationship
Series: i think she likes girls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693573
Comments: 19
Kudos: 32





	the l word

**Author's Note:**

> this was longer but then it was too long and didn't flow as one cohesive story so now it's a series of interconnected one-shots.

Veronica accosts Betty and Jughead in the Blue and Gold offices one morning, not letting either of them get in a word before she can announce: “Lodge family drama is reaching Greek tragedy levels and I need a distraction. Cancel your plans, girls, we’re having a sleepover. My place, Friday night, 6pm sharp.”

There’s a manic look in Veronica’s eyes and Betty doesn’t dare say or do anything other than bob her head agreeably.

“What about you, Torombola? Are you free Friday night?”

Jughead looks startled, “I really don’t--”

“I was just being polite in asking. It’s a girls night, so that includes you, and I’m not letting you wiggle out of it.”

With that, she turns on her heel and struts back into the hall, her voice carrying back as she spots a new victim, “Archiekins! Just the man I was looking for. I need--”

The door swings shut behind her and mutes her request, though Betty doesn’t doubt Veronica’s power to steamroll Archie him into whatever favor she’s going to ask of him.

Jughead groans, “This is on you.”

“Can you at least try being nice? She's my friend and she's having a hard time, it's the least we can do. Maybe you have more in common with her than you think.”

“I’m sure  _ Veronica Lodge  _ and I have tons in common,” Jughead snorts. “If she tries to paint my nails, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Veronica is, unsurprisingly, an over-eager hostess. She greets Betty and Jughead at the door with a beaming grin and mocktails already prepared. Jughead scowls at the neon-pink drink Veroniac shoves into her hands nd Betty elbows her.

“I have some emotions to process, so I hope you’re ready to enjoy some 1990s-era Kate Winslet.”

“Something tells me you’re not about to say  _ Holy Smoke, _ ” Jughead mutters.

“Why would I say that?”

“It’s a m-- Nevermind.  _ Titanic _ , right?”

“Absolutely. I’m prepared to cry my eyes out into some popcorn. Join me?”

Betty has seen  _ Titanic _ before and while it’s far from her favorite, it’s an alright movie. Or it probably would be alright if it weren’t for the fact that Jughead has her chin on Betty’s shoulder and is muttering actors’ entire IMDB credits while crunching popcorn into her ear. She wants to smack her by the time they get to the end, except that Veronica grabbed Betty's hand as soon as the ship started to sink and still hasn’t let go.

“Well,” Veronica sniffles, wiping her tears with the hand not death-gripping Betty, “Emotionally-speaking, I think I worked through some things.”

“And I think I’ve already digested that bowl of popcorn. That movie is so long and it’s not even a  _ good  _ James Cameron movie.”

“Let me guess. You’re more of a  _ Terminator  _ gal?”

“It’s  _ Aliens _ ,” Betty says, having been subjected to that particular lecture on multiple occasions before. Jughead looks impressed that she remembered.

For dinner, Veronica had some bougie pizza flown in from New York for dinner. Jughead eats half of it by herself before sprawling out on the couch. The three of them complain about school and compare horror stories of a teacher they all hate. Betty starts to hope the night will go better than Jughead anticipated, until Veronica clears aside the pizza boxes and replaces them with a hot pink chest from off her vanity.  


“Next up, a sleepover classic.”

She starts removing items with meticulous organization. Between the colors and the brushes, Veronica looks like something of an artist, missing only a painter's smock and easel.

Jughead doesn't seem to match Betty's fascinating, instead clearing her throat,  “This all looks impressive and expensive, but I'd rather not--”

Veronica holds up a tube of lipstick and Jughead stops short, giving Betty a panicked look. Veronica rolls her eyes. “Your ‘I’m not like other girls’ thing is so overdone, Jones. Come on, don’t act like you’re above it all. Join the rest of us mortal women, put on a little warpaint.”

Veronica moves in a flurry, selecting her items and then crowding in around Jughead, setting her palettes to the side before crawling into Jughead’s lap. Jughead’s eyes are blown wide as she stares up at her and Betty can hear her audibly gulp. Veronica grips Jughead’s jaw in her other hand and tilts Jughead’s face to each side, an artist surveying her canvas, “You know, if you stopped dressing like a rejected extra from an emo music video, you could be a total smokeshow.”

“Gosh V, if you wanted to experiment with another girl, you could’ve just said something,” Jughead jokes, hands fidgeting at her sides.

Veronica dips her brush into a makeup palette, “Hold still.”

Veronica’s makeup routine is much more intensive than Betty’s, but Jughead does an admirable job of not squirming while Veronica has her way with her. Betty borrows one of Veronica’s pink nail polishes to absently paint her toenails while she watches.

When Veronica climbs off Jughead’s lap, she’s grinning and clearly proud of herself. She retrieves a mirror and shoves it into Jughead’s hand, then steps back and nudges Betty.

“What do you think?”

It’s not that Jughead isn’t beautiful because she _is_ , but she doesn’t look anything like herself and the semi-miserable expression she’s wearing isn’t helping matters.

“I tried not to do anything extreme,” Veronica says, as if she can sense Jughead’s displeasure. “Obviously this isn’t your normal look, but makeup can… I don’t know. Reveal more of your true self, I think.”

“You look good, Juggie,” Betty tries, but Jughead shoots a look of betrayal at her anyway.

“You know what, I think we could use some hot chocolate,” Veronica says, voice light. “And maybe a splash of rum.”  


She doesn’t wait for either of them to respond before she beelines for the hallway. Jughead is on her feet before the door has even shut, setting the mirror aside and moving toward Veronica’s bathroom. Betty follows, knowing exactly where this is headed. She instructs Jughead to sit on the lid of the toilet while she digs into the cupboards for makeup remover.

“Why do you hate it so much?” Betty asks, finally locating a package of wipes under the sink and coming to stand in front of Jughead.

“I don’t think you want my anti-makeup industry rant right now,” Jughead says and her accompanying laugh wavers in the middle. She tilts her chin toward Betty and it sinks in just  _ how  _ very little like herself she looks now. The slight red in her cheeks has disappeared under foundation. Her lips are too glossy, too pink, especially against the ragged flannel pajamas she’s wearing. Even mascara seems out of place.

Betty slides a hand up to Jughead’s jaw, keeping her steady while she starts to rub away the makeup on her cheeks. She pretends not to notice Jughead’s eyes watering.

“She wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable, you know.”

“Yet she’s so great at it.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t get why you like her so much.”

_ Don’t freak out. Just trust me. _ The memory springs unbidden into Betty’s mind and she shakes it off, lowering her hand from Jughead’s face, “You don’t have to be so mean about it. She’s just a person, she’s not out to get you. If you just gave her a chance, maybe--”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. I mean, come on _,_ Betty. You’re not an idiot, you have to know. Look at me, I’m a freak, okay? I’m-- I’m never going to fit in with girls like Veronica because I’m not--”

“Veronica was right, you have to stop pulling that ‘not like other girls’ bullshit.”

“But _ I’m not _ like Veronica. I’m a weirdo dyke and everyone knows it. The kids at school know. Your mom probably figured it out before I did, with all those looks she gave me when we were kids.”

“You’re not gay.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d know better than you if I was.”

“But you’re-- Not liking makeup doesn’t mean you’re gay.”

“Yeah, but there’s other things that I--” Jughead stops, cheeks flushing to a brilliant shade of scarlet and Betty’s not sure if it’s from vigorously scrubbing off makeup or something else. “I shouldn’t have let V bully me into coming tonight, I’m just gonna go home.”

Jughead pushes past Betty as she flees the room. Betty stands there for a moment, baffled and uncertain why a creeping sense of embarrassment is settling in her gut. She turns to go after Jughead, but instead runs smack into Veronica in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Veronica asks, throwing a glance back to where Jughead disappeared.  


“She’s going home. The makeup thing overwhelmed her and she--” Betty stops and folds her arms, frowning at Veronica, “Why did you do that to her? You know that kind of stuff makes her uncomfortable.”

“Sometimes you don’t know you like something until you try it. She dresses like an eleven year old tomboy. I was trying to help.”

“I just think sometimes you go too far.”

“ _ I _ go too far? Think about that one for a minute,” Veronica huffs and Betty tries very hard to push away images of Chuck Clayton from her mind.

Veronica catches her hand, “I’m sorry, B. Can we talk later? I don’t want to fight, I just needed a night to take my mind off things.”

“You should tell Jughead you’re sorry.”

Veronica sucks in a heavy breath, “Done. I’ll talk to her at school, first thing Monday.”

* * *

The three of them are eight years old, clustered together in Archie’s room. Riverdale Elementary’s winter holiday concert is in two hours, which means they’re supposed to be getting ready. The trouble is that Gladys picked out a dress for Jughead to wear and even looking at the thing for too long makes Jughead want to scream, so she remains in her jeans and oversized sweater with her beanie pulled snug over her ears.

“Stop being dramatic,” Betty grits out, teetering from foot to foot as she tries to wriggle her tights up her legs.  _ Dramatic  _ is her new favorite word to describe things Jughead does and Jughead doesn’t think she’s being fair in her expansive use of it.

“It’s worse than death,” Jughead throws back.

“It can’t be that bad,” Archie says, unhelpfully

“It  _ is _ ,” Jughead clenches her fist around the corduroy dress and shakes it at Archie for emphasis. He staggers away from her gesture and knocks into Betty, who topples over with a muffled squeak.

“Sorry--” Archie starts, but Betty waves him away, turning her attention to Jughead and exaggeratedly rolling her eyes at her.

“At least your mom isn’t making you wear tights.”

It’s not much of a comfort, but Jughead thanks her lucky stars that Alice Cooper isn’t her mother. She’s overheard her parents complain about Alice more times than she can count; Gladys especially doesn’t like her.

Jughead offers her a hand up and Betty accepts it, dragging herself up off the floor and then hobbling over to Archie’s bed. She peels the tights off from where they got stuck halfway up her calves and starts over with them bunched up at her toes.

“I really don’t get it, Jug, it’s just a dress,” Archie says.

It doesn’t look right and it doesn’t feel right and she just doesn’t want to wear it, but Jughead doesn’t say any of that. Instead she flings the burgundy dress at Archie and snaps, “Then  _ you  _ can wear it.”

As Archie stares down at the dress, Jughead realizes that he’s going to do it a second before he starts unbuttoning his dress shirt. It’s the kind of thing a good friend would do and who is Archie Andrews if not a good friend to his core? They’ve all swapped clothes enough time in their lives, this isn’t much of a departure from that. Archie gave Betty his old snow boots, Betty let Jughead borrow sweaters and swimsuits.

Archie passes his shirt over to Jughead and she can’t quite stop herself from grinning as she takes it from him. The clip on tie Mary picked out makes it even better and by the time they’re done, Jughead is grinning at herself in the mirror.

Archie gets the dress zipped up with a little help from Betty -- after she manages to get her tights on -- and the three of them tromp down the stairs.  The trouble is, even saintly parents like Fred and Mary can’t quite cover their shock when their son marches downstairs to go to school in a dress.

“ _ Archie _ ,” Fred says in a gentle voice that immediately makes Archie burst into tears and Jughead has to fight back her own. She grabs Archie’s hands as she starts rambling at Fred.

“Archie was just trying to help me. I didn’t want to wear the dress and I told him he should wear it instead, it was all  _ my  _ idea. Don’t let him be in trouble!”

“It’s not-- You’re not in trouble,” Fred says quickly. Archie sniffles and Jughead squeezes his hand. Fred looks at Mary and Jughead can tell there’s some sort of grown up conversation happening between them, the kind she sees her parents have sometimes when she asks a question they don’t want to answer (like “Where do babies come from?” or “Why doesn’t Santa give us as many presents as Betty and Archie get for Christmas?”).

“It’s just,” Mary says carefully, “we might not care about what you wear, but other people might care a lot and we want you to be safe.”

“Why wouldn’t it be safe?” Betty pipes up.

“That’s a bit more complicated. Um, how about this?” Mary says. “Mr. Andrews and I will take pictures of the three of you like this and Jughead, you can keep that picture to remember the concert. But after that, you should change back into your own clothes.”

“I think that’s reasonable,” Fred intones and Jughead knows this is the best she’s going to get and that all things considered, it’s not bad.

Jughead remembers seeing Fred and Mary talking to FP and Gladys in hushed, grown-up voices later that night, though she can’t pick up what they’re saying. But after that, her hand-me-downs shift from Gladys’ to FP’s. She wears his faded band shirts that nearly reach her knees, borrows oversized jackets, and neither of them bother with trying to put her in a dress again.

* * *

Betty sends Jughead a text to make sure she got home alright, to which Jughead never replies. There’s no word from her for the rest of the weekend and Betty begins to panic until Jughead turns up at school on Monday, just fine.

They don’t have classes together so it isn't until she gets to lunch period that she spots Veronica and Jughead talking to each other at a table outside. Jughead seems annoyed and Betty decides to not push her luck and wait to talk to her later. Except Jughead doesn’t acknowledge Betty in the hallway when she walks by, head down and headphones securely over her ears. Betty tries to get her attention after school, but Jughead ignores her and walks past to the bus.

By Tuesday, even Archie picks up on the awkwardness between the two, cornering Betty in the cafeteria, “Why aren’t you and Jug talking? She’s already been mad at me for ditching her this summer, whatever it is you should just apologize before it’s too late and things get weird.”

“I told her that she wasn’t gay,” Betty admits without thinking, then realizes she probably shouldn’t have outed her. Although she’s already in trouble as it is, what’s one more thing?

“But she’s not gay,” Archie says slowly, the gears turning his head. “Wait,  _ is  _ she gay?”

“That’s what I said!”

Archie looks deep in thought, staring down at his tray and picking at a soggy-looking french fry, “Maybe she is. I mean, think about it, you got a crush on me, but she never did.”

“Aren't you humble as ever?”  


“I don’t mean it like that,” Archie says defensively. “I don’t know how to help. Tell her you're sorry and buy her a carabiner.”

“Arch. I am not going to buy her a carabiner.”

“Okay, then don't. Do you think I should  say something to her?”

“No,” Betty says emphatically. “I shouldn’t have told you; she didn’t sound like she wanted to be out.”

“So we should just keep treating her the same as always, like with Kevin” Archie affirms. “She’s not a different person just because she’s gay.”

They eat the rest of their lunch in amicable silence until the bell rings and Betty heads off to the Blue and Gold to find Jughead. Archie gives her an encouraging thumbs up as they part ways in the hall.  


Jughead looks strictly business, ignoring her entirely when Betty walks into the office.

“I’m sorry I said you couldn’t be gay. I didn’t mean it like that, it was just a surprise. We’ve known each other forever and then I felt-- I don’t know. I felt silly, I guess? That I never realized.”

Jughead doesn’t look up from her laptop, but her lips quirk, “Thank you.”

“Are we friends again?”

Now Jughead looks up, surprised. “Just because I was pissed at you for like, a day, doesn’t mean we stopped being friends.”

Betty will take that much. She pulls up a chair next to Jughead and leans in, “What’s our next lead?”

Nothing changes, really, except that Betty notices things more. Reggie whispers to Moose when Jughead walks past (and notices Moose doesn't seem to laugh quite as hard as Reggie does over whatever joke it was). Some of the teachers really don't like Jughead in way that goes beyond the basis of Jughead being a stubborn contrarian. When Jughead wears a suit to Jason’s funeral, Penelope Blossom glares at her and then glares even harder when Betty takes Jughead’s hand. And Penelope isn’t the only parent who seems to have a special dislike of Jughead.

“So, Jughead,” Alice says over breakfast. “I suppose we have you to thank for Betty's ongoing obsession with this Jason Blossom ghoulishness?”

“Actually, Mom, I was the one who asked Jughead to help me write about it for the Blue and Gold.”

“Relax, Betty. I’m just making conversation. Speaking of, can I have a word with you?”

Betty throws Jughead an apologetic look before following Alice out of earshot.

“I understand that you’ve chosen to throw your lot in with friends who live  _ alternative  _ lifestyles, but I just want to make sure that you’re not feeling pressured into anything. You know you can talk to me about anything, Elizabeth.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Betty wants to hear her say it.

“Just be yourself, that’s all,” Alice says, too-warm and too-sweet. “Not another Polly and not another Jughead. You have so much ahead of you, I’d hate for you to throw it all away.”

“I won’t. Can I go back to having breakfast with my friend now?”

Alice nods and Betty rejoins Jughead at the table. Jughead excuses herself to find a restroom and give Betty time to snoop and before long they’re on their way to school with a new lead.

“My mom thinks you’re corrupting me,” Betty says, once the information has been sorted through and they’ve still got another block to go. It feels important, somehow, to say it and to let Jughead know she’s not being swayed by Alice’s prejudices. “In more ways than one. Murder investigations  _ and  _ the lesbianism.”

Jughead hums a laugh, “Speaking strictly off the record, that  _ is  _ the agenda.”

Betty laughs and bumps their shoulders together as they walk and she feels steady in that moment, like they might be alright after all of this.

How quickly everything falls apart.  


Barely a few days later, Jughead climbs a ladder to sneak into her room through the window. She tries to joke and make light at first but Betty just _can't_ when her mind is trying to process so much with Polly and her parents and the baby all at once. Her thoughts are racing to connect dots, to make things make sense and not hurt like they do right now.

“We’re not our parents, Betty,” Jughead says softly. “We’re not our families.”

Betty looks at her and wants to believe it, she really does. There’s something more there, in Jughead’s eyes.

“Also...”

“What?”

Jughead doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at Betty, shaking her head slightly.

“ _ What _ ?” Betty presses.

“Nothing. Um. We should talk more about the--”

“Car!” Betty realizes, remembering that particular detail of her conversation with Polly. Jughead gives a quiet little laugh and Betty trusts that w hatever she needed to say could wait until later.


End file.
